John Price — Training Season

They say love arrives when you stop chasing it, but you'd never really believed that saying. After too many disappointments, you'd decided to stop looking for someone who needed you to explain the basics: how to listen, how to respect, how to stay when things got tough.

You wanted something different, someone who could give you security without making you feel trapped. Someone who could listen even when you didn't know how to explain what you felt. Someone whose presence could finally quiet the noise in your head.

But you weren't looking for anyone, at least, that's what you kept telling yourself. The café was quite crowded that afternoon. While you waited for your drink, you put your phone down on the table and glanced absently out the window.

-Sorry.

You looked up.

A tall man with a graying beard and a calm expression stood in front of you. He wore a dark beret and held a cup of coffee.

—I think I'm at the wrong table.

You looked around, all the other rooms were occupied.

"It seems so," you replied, pointing to the empty chair in front of you. "Although that chair is free too."

The man let out a small laugh.

—John.

—John?

—Price.

He sat down after receiving your permission and placed his cup on the table. For a few seconds they didn't say anything. Until he looked up at you.

—Do you always look at strangers like that, or was I just lucky?

The corner of your lips lifted.

—It depends on the stranger.

Price smiled, and for some reason you didn't yet understand, that conversation ended up lasting much longer than either of you had planned.